With New Arrivals
by nietzsche300
Summary: Upon returning from Christmas break, Santana finds that she has yet another girl to compete with for the top Cheerio spot. However, as she gets to know the new girl, competition becomes the least of her worries. Slight AU-Freshman Year.
1. Chapter 1

Hello! This is my second attempt at writing a Glee fic. The last one was too random for me to finish, as a solid plot type of girl, but this one is just right for me. Enjoy!

Introduction: Blonde Competition

Santana walked through the door of a house that had been branded legendary, immediately surrounded by the students of none other than McKinley High. This was the first party following the long Christmas break of her freshman year, and as the sea of drunk dancing students parted to let her through, she couldn't help but grin. High school had been good to her, thus far. She was a new Cheerio on the rise, and most of her friends consisted of Cheerios that were already at the top. More importantly, they were at the top and graduating, no amount of love for them could take away from her thoughts of the lack of competition that would remain. The juniors had all managed to be swept up in one of those pregnancy pack ordeals, and there was no way their coach was going to allow any baby bumps prancing around on her turf. Not that they pranced.

Finally making it to the kitchen, she was surprised that she hadn't bumped into the new leading man of McKinley. A freshman himself, and hardly beyond the simple jock mentality, Noah Puckerman had managed to clime the social ladder before Santana had even fully scoped the place out. It was simple really, he played football, and he was good at it. The other freshman players weren't looking so promising, and the juniors...well, they would soon have their hands full—as fathers. Not that they were exclusive or anything, but Santana and Noah were known to frequent each others' parts. And not just in a geographical sense. However, there would be plenty of time to play up that role, later on.

She stood in front of the various rows of liquor on the counter, grabbing a shot glass from a cabinet only she probably knew about, other than Puck and a few of his friends. Maybe a few noisy party goers. She wondered which of the burning fluids would be her treat of choice for the night. Thanks to her father drilling her for an _extra _hour, she was even later than she had intended to be, and now she seemed to be the only one who wasn't already intoxicated. Others in the large kitchen had obviously been there for a while; a few of them stumbling about in fits of laughter with blue and red cups, with the typical 'chug, chug' coming from the lips of a few others as beer sputtered from the lips of an amateur drinker, and the rest of them were coupled off on the brink of public activities of sexual variety, she was sure.

Laughing slightly at the scene, she decided to go with clear liquors for the night. The holidays had given her plenty of dark liquor, and most of it hadn't ended well. "Here's hoping I don't get grounded for the next century," she said, pouring herself a shot and downing it quickly.

Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed a familiar face approaching. Standing up a bit straighter and crossing her arms over her chest, she watched the girl through slanted eyes, wondering if she too would go to the cabinet full of shot glasses that Santana herself had stood in front of moments ago. There would be no need to wonder how the other teen would know where the glasses were, Puck wasn't exactly known for being a saint in any way and this girl was a typical candidate for certain attentions. She was a tall, slender blonde, with blue eyes, and an IQ of zero. More importantly, she was fresh meat. Freshly arrived from whatever cow-town hole Santana imagined she came from.

When the blonde reached for the bottle Santana had yet to put back in the rows of bottles and started to lift it to her lips, Santana put her hand on the bottle to stop it. "Uh, show some respect. Ever heard of a cup?"

The girl blinked. "That's how my Nana drinks it."

"She sounds like a real catch," the latina said, taking the bottle fully into her hand and reaching for a shot glass. "Don't tell anyone where you got this." She sat the glass down next to her own, filling the both of them before handing one to the blonde.

"I didn't get it."

Before Santana could even set the bottle down, she saw the girl down her shot without another word, her nose scrunching slightly. "Who the hell is this girl?" she thought, letting her own shot slowly run down her throat. She was no amateur. You couldn't be, if you wanted to make it to the top and stay there. "Want another one?"

Shrugging, the blonde reached for one of the smaller bottles on the back row. "I've already had a lot of these. Puck said I could have as much as I want."

"I bet he did," she scoffed. "Look, I'm going to give you some advice—Don't go there."

"Where's there?" the girl asked.

"What?" Santana questioned the girl's blank expression, seeing that the question was in fact a question. "You've gotta be kidding me," she said, rolling her eyes. "You're a lost cause."

"That's what my new math teacher says when I'm in class, but I'm just like—Obviously I'm not lost, my schedule says I'm supposed to be here." She paused. "This is Puck's house, right?"

Just when Santana was about to answer, the boy in question appeared. "Hey babe," he said, putting his arm around the blonde's shoulders. He looked over at Santana, only nodding his head in her direction. "So, Brittany, what do you say you and the Puckasaurus go dance?"

A broad smile spread across the blonde's lips. "Okay."

And like that, Santana was left standing alone, her mouth hanging agape. She had just been completely brushed off, and for what, some idiot blonde who obviously didn't even belong in _any _high school? There was no way she was going to be outranked by the likes of Brittany Pierce, a name she never claimed to know, let alone remember. But there was no Cheerio Santana didn't have her eye on. Okay, except for the juniors. If she played her cards right, she'd be the at the top of the pyramid in no time, and that meant keeping her status in all of the high school social arenas.

"Was that the new girl, with Puck?"

Suddenly at her side was yet another blonde bombshell she had to compete with, and unfortunately this one wouldn't be graduating soon, either. "Quinn," she said, standing beside the girl without looking in her direction.

They did that often, standing side by side watching all the McKinley high students like covert spies on a mission to dismantle and destroy. She could care less about Quinn's reasoning for wanting to be the next top bitch, but as two new fish in a big pond, it was good to have a skilled ally, and if Quinn Fabray was one thing—she was a bitch. And if it weren't for a few soft moments Santana had witnessed, she would say the girl was on her level, but alas a drunken night led her to conclude otherwise.

"Santana." They stood in silence for a moment, Quinn crossing her arms as well. "That has to be the dumbest girl I've ever met."

"All the better to pluck," Santana commented, turning to pour herself another drink. "Still a light weight, Fabray?" Haven been to many parties together, she was more than aware of Quinn's inability to hold her liquor.

"My parents are out of town this weekend." That meant she could enjoy herself at least _a little bit_, since she didn't have to worry about her dad coming to give her a breathalyzer test at dawn. Her reputation would not be lowered to one of a slut, that was Santana's expertise, and the new girl's from what she had heard. "You spending the night at my place, then?"

"Doesn't look like I'll be staying here tonight, so why not?" Handing her top competition a shot, she clinked their glasses together. "To another semester of climbing to the top."

"Here, here," Quinn said, knocking back the shot.

"By the way," she said, giving the girl a dramatic once over. "You look like my first grade teacher, and I seriously wish you'd keep it in the bottle. That is _so _not your natural hair color."


	2. Sunday Morning Surprise

Hello, and welcome back. Sorry about the wait – finals. Here's the 'first' chapter, and since it's an actual chapter, it's a bit longer. In the next chapter, I may broaden the scope of characters that I follow around, since they'll all be returning to school after this one, which means that they'll get even longer. Enjoy!

Chapter One: Sunday Morning Surprise

_She was sure that the giggling she heard in her head wasn't her own, until she spotted Quinn out of the corner of her eye, smiling but not giggling as she attempted to walk and remove her shoes in a drunken stumble. But, unable to stop herself from preventing the ridiculous sound coming from her upturned lips, Santana too continued on her way, removing her blouse in one quick scoop while also managing to bump into a lawn table. Stopping it from sliding against the rocked pavement, she turned to see Quinn holding one finger over her lips, laughing slightly. Santana had trekked across the Fabray grounds many times and their backyard pool area was practically her second home, especially during the summer. But the alcohol in her system made her feel like one of those toy ballerinas that twirled around endlessly with a pull from a crazed toddler._

_ "Come on, Lopez." Now standing in just her matching white bra and panties, Quinn reached behind her back. "This is your ridiculous tradition, and you dragged me all the way home when-"_

_ "When you decided it was a good idea to start drooling over the jolly green giant that is Finn Hudson," Santana finished, trying to carefully undue her skirt. Once the zipper was down and still in tact, she thought it was best to glance in her friend's direction, the girl wasn't exactly the most stable drunk either. Her eyes landed on the back of the now naked blonde, pulling her hair back and pinning it up sloppily with her slender fingers._

_ The blonde looked over her shoulder. "It's now or never."_

_ Santana started to feel flush as Quinn bent her knees before diving into the pool, her splash gentle and quiet, but it seemed to collide with Santana's stomach as if were an amateur cannonball. Stumbling over to a patch of grass, Santana doubled over-_

"Wake up you pack of worthless heathens." Two phones sounded, vibrating loudly against the wooden table top. Santana reached over blindly, only grumbling slightly at the feel of someone's warmth as her arm extended towards the nightstand beside the bed.

Finally, her fingers reached the device, and keeping her eyes closed she turned off her phone, tossing it in any direction before letting her arm fall back onto the bed. When it landed on something solid and warm, and another phone started to sound with even more obscenities, she shot up quickly fumbling backwards until she fell off of the bed.

Rubbing the bottom of her back as she sat up, Santana squinted up at Quinn. "Damn it, Fabray, I told you to sleep on the floor last night."

"This is my room, Santana," the blonde said, attempting to run her fingers through her hair only to find that it was slightly damp and a bit tangled. "Great."

Santana looked around, finding herself in a pastel colored room. "Oh yeah."

"Sunday morning boot-camp surprise, get off your butt, Lopez," Quinn said as she got out of bed, walking into her closet and coming back out in her Cheerios uniform. "I'm so not showering when she's just going to have us sweating like a linebacker by the end of the day, sacred uniform be damned. She only makes us practice in them so we can go home and slave away scrubbing hours into the night," she said, rolling her eyes as she walked into her bathroom to brush her teeth.

Picking up her underwear and grabbing a shirt and some shorts from Quinn's dresser, Santana began to get ready for all the awfulness that was Sunday morning boot-camp. Figuring that she wouldn't be returning home the night before, she had mad sure to leave her Cheerios uniform in the car, thank goodness. "Hurry up, Fabray, I run twenty-six miles for no one, and the last time a freshman was late all the seniors slushied the shit out of her. They say she went blind."

Quinn walked out of the bathroom. "I don't think that's true."

"Whatever, that's what I heard," she shrugged. "You drive, I'll change on the way."

* * *

><p>"Pathetic!" the woman yelled through her megaphone. "Each and every one of you." Turning off the object that projected her already too loud rantings, Coach Sue Sylvester began to pace in front of the pyramid of Cheerios, ignoring the ever growing shake of their limbs. "I will not tolerate such a disgrace."<p>

Santana rolled her eyes, trying to stop her arms from shaking but it was impossible. For the past hour they had repeatedly gone into the pyramid formation, finishing up their gruesome practice with the last part of their routine for nationals. She was sure that it was illegal for their coach to demand so many practice hours from them, and she was also sure that all of them moving the woman's office items to a bigger office in the school qualified as child labor, but if there was one thing Santana understood about her extremely insane coach, it was her need for perfection.

The woman was trying to keep an image; she was the best, and the only way for that to be seen was through her Cheerios, so they had to be perfect as well. Santana was okay with that, one of her top goals was to reach perfection, after all. However, as she stood stuck in the middle of the pyramid, holding up one of the seniors that she loathed more than life, all she wanted to do was stick that megaphone so far up her coaches' ass that the woman's intestines would wrap around her vocal cords and put them all out of their misery.

"I'll give you one last chance to get this right," the woman said, finally stopping in front of the pyramid. Once again, she brought her megaphone to her lips. "Everyone, back to your assigned positions." The body of students dismantled themselves from one another, some stumbling a bit while others casually stretched. "Move it."

Putting a bit more pep in her step, Santana made it over to Quinn, who was flustered and sweating but other than that there were no signs of an physical exertion. Where Santana was breathing heavily, Quinn stood tall, her eyes fixed ahead of her. Somehow she was already in complete position, including her stance and as soon as coach gave the ready, Quinn's angelic smile spread across her lips.

"God, I hate you," Santana mumbled, getting into the same stance and putting on a smile of her own. Angelic wasn't really one of her expressions, but coach seemed to like to have a bit of sultry in the mix. Sex appeal was very important in the cheerleading world.

"Alright, here we go," Sue said as her eyes scanned the field. "One. Two. Th—What the?" Her brow creased, and her eyes turned into thin slits of rage. "Dopey," she yelled.

Looking over her shoulder, Santana tried to follow her coaches' line of sight without getting herself into trouble in the process. When she was finally able to spot who the woman was now walking towards, her eyes landed on the new girl picking little yellow flowers in the middle of the field, completely oblivious to the seething woman heading in her direction. Seeing that the woman didn't use her megaphone for once, Santana was unable to hear her coaches' words, but she could clearly see Brittany jump when she finally noticed someone was standing over her.

"If we end up having to run suicides after this, I will make it my personal goal to make that girl's life a living hell," Quinn said calmly, still standing with her in position with that same smile on her face. "I cannot do this for another six hours, my skin feels like it's literally melting, and I'm pretty sure I have a sunburn _underneath _my uniform."

"It's fucking January, Fabray," Santana said, scoffing at the other teen's complaints.

"My point exactly," Quinn mumbled. "I'm burning up. I'm never drinking again."

Having heard that before, Santana simply ignored her frienemy, continuing to watch as her coach continued to talk to Brittany, who mostly looked confused. Then suddenly the girl was clapping excitedly as Coach Sylvester turned around rolling her eyes, heading back to the head of the group. Turning her head quickly, Santana prayed that her coach didn't see her looking as she passed by. Then, she glanced over her shoulder one last time to look at the new girl, with a frown on her face. No one, _no one, _walked away smiling and clapping after a talk with Sue Sylvester.

"Lopez!"

Santana faced forward, no look of surprise, guilt, or fear on her face; only that sultry toothed grin as she held her head high, and her coach seemed to except that, calling for the routine to begin and so it did. Santana went through the motions, occasionally glancing over at Quinn to make sure they stayed in exact formation with one another. If there was anyone she could tolerate being at her side when she became the head bitch of McKinley it was Quinn Fabray, and she was sure the blonde felt the same way about her. They hadn't known each other for that long, after all, Quinn was new to the Lima district, and yet they spent more time together than they spent with anyone else. Keep your enemies closer, was the theory Santana went with to explain their friendship, though it wasn't so unpleasant to have someone around just in case she one day decided that the weakness that other girls displayed in front of each other wasn't actual weakness. That seemed very unlikely, but there was nothing wrong with having options.

As the routine was about to finish up, Santana noticed that the new girl was suddenly in her line of sight, which made no sense. She glanced over at Quinn, who also noticed the other blonde but merely shrugged it off and continued on her way. Santana, however, found herself suddenly unsure of her movements as the tall slender blonde twirled and flipped in her direction.

"What the fuck?" she mumbled, her smile falling.

"Smile, Lopez. I know happiness is not your natural state but nobody wants to see a constipated Spaniard in a skirt," Sue yelled.

Ignoring the lack of knowledge of her actual race, Santana quickly recovered her smile, readying herself to go up into the pyramid formation but once again Brittany twirled by her, her long legs stretching into the air as her hands seemed to bounce off the ground before they even touched its artificially green surface.

"Pyramid," Sue sounded. "In three...two..."

Just as Santana did one last kick and started to turn to get her position she found herself face to face with Brittany who was just coming out of a flip and was unable to stop her forward motion. They collided with force, Santana being knocked onto her back with a quiet, "omph." Groaning, she opened her eyes just in time to see the whole pyramid fall apart before it was halfway built, a few of them hadn't realized that one of their key blocks of the pyramid was sprawled out on the ground beneath a giggling blonde.

Realizing that she was in fact hearing giggling, Santana's eyes turned to the blonde who was slowly sitting up with a slight look of pain, mixed with a smile. "Whoa," the blonde. "I didn't see you, sorry."

For once in her life, Santana actually had the urge to except an apology, as those bright blue eyes shined down at her with an innocence she was sure she herself never possessed. The warmth of their tangled limbs threatened to engulf her, and despite her already high body temperature she found it strangely comfortable. Her tired body relaxed for a split second before she regained herself, pushing the blonde off of her. "You will regret this," she said, through grit teeth as their coach approached them.

"Lopez!" she blasted through her megaphone, despite her close proximity with the two girls. "You are exactly seven inches to the left of your assigned position. Unacceptable!" Lowering the obnoxious object, she crossed her arms, glaring down at them. "Now Dopey here seems to actually be able to bend backwards and grab her ankles."

"Totally," Brittany said, nodding. "I can totally do that."

"And though she seems to lack any real brain power, I think she can help us win nationals with all that freak bendiness, and we don't have time for you to-" Sensing that everyone was staring at them, Sue turned to the rest of the Cheerios, lifting her megaphone. "Dismissed."

The object squeaked, and Brittany covered her ears, while Santana took the opportunity to give the girl the look of death, but it only seemed to confuse the other girl, which made the Latina even more frustrated.

"Now," Coach Sylvester said, turning back to them as the rest of the Cheerios left the field. "The two of you owe me ten suicides across the entire field. Enjoy your evening, ladies, I'm going to go home and vaccinate the rodent that trims my eyebrows while I sleep. My assistant will wait for you to finish, seeing that I'm not aloud to leave students unsupervised on school grounds."

Brittany frowned. "My cat's afraid of the vacuum."

* * *

><p>It was official. She hated Brittany Pierce. She hated the way the girl had bounced onto the field at the beginning of boot-camp as if she hadn't been out all night partying, drinking, and probably having sex with Puck—which may not have taken much energy, but still—she hated the way the girl twirled her hair and stared into space instead of listening while coach gave instructions, and yet somehow managed to still follow them; and she especially hated the way the girl was basically running circles around her as she finished off her third suicide. No, scratch that, she especially hated the fact that the blonde had managed to steal the attention of all the boys that usually drooled at her feet, <em>and <em>impress Coach Sylvester, though the woman would never admit it. Sue Sylvester didn't just assign anyone the hardest flips and twirls of a routine, and the fact that Brittany had already gained one of the privileges of being a top dog, when she herself had barely made it to the middle of the pyramid was beyond off-putting. It was infuriating.

When the sprinklers began to spray onto the field, she growled in anger. "This has to be the worst day of my life," she grumbled, as Brittany bounced by her squealing with delight as she ran through the water. "You know, this water is full of fertilizer chemicals, right?" Santana asked, slowing to a stop and folding her arms as moved to the edge of the field. She wondered whether it would be better to continue doing suicides and let Coach Sylvester's assistant, Jacob Ben Israel, experience what was probably one the many wet dreams he had about each and ever female Cheerio from his spot on the bleachers, or risk Coach Sylvester kicking her off the team for insubordination for not completing the assigned suicides.

"It looks like water to me," Brittany said, spinning around in the sprinklers. She opened her mouth. "Tastes like water, too."

Santana crossed her. "There's something seriously wrong with you." Suddenly the other teen, who wasn't that far away from her, started running towards her making Santana unfold her arms and take a slight step back. "What are you doing?"

"Come on," the blonde said, grabbing onto one of the Latina's arms.

Pulling her arm away, Santana couldn't believe someone had the nerve to even _reach _in her direction. "Don't touch me," she said, appalled.

"You know...cooties aren't real."

Santana scoffed. "Of course I know that."

"Then, come on," Brittany said, with a smile. She approached the girl again, quickly tapping the other teen's arm. "Come on."

"Seriously, don't do that," she said, recrossing her arms.

The blonde did it again. "Come _on._"

"I should warn you, I am capable of murder," Santana said, her eyes slanted as she shot daggers in the other teen's direction, but the girl only giggled. She _giggled. _Then, she tapped Santana again. "That's it." Ignoring the fact that beating up another Cheerio was forbidden, Santana moved to retaliate only to find herself hitting air as the other girl turned and took off running through the sprinklers. And again, she was giggling.

Fuming, Santana ran after the girl, ignoring just how good the cool water felt hitting her brown skin. "You best be ready, Blondie." The blonde simply continued to run and laugh, she even clapped. "And stop with the giggling, you sound like a horse turned roadkill via mack truck."

There was no way she was going to catch Brittany, every time she thought she was close, the girl would just speed up again. A few times, she even circled around Santana and tapped her on various body parts before taking off again, making Santana turn in circles, confused as to how it was possible for the girl to even do that. The constant giggles began to lose their annoying ring in her ears, and she soon found herself laughing along with the blonde. Sure, they were supposed to be running suicides, and she hated the other girl's guts, but for some reason she couldn't stop herself from laughing and running after her fellow Cheerio. It was strange, the warmth she felt in her cheeks and chest; they were so foreign to her, a rare occasion that she couldn't remember happening just while laughing and chasing someone.

When Brittany finally let herself be within reach of the Cheerio, there was no burst of violence; no punches or insults. She reached back and grabbed Santana's arm, pulling her along through the sprinklers one more time before heading off the field, both of them soaked. "Wow, that was so much fun," she bounced.

Santana was breathing heavily, her laughter making it harder to pull air into her lungs, as her heart pounded hard against her chest. Fun? Was that what she had just experienced? Parties, she found fun; there was drinking, the occasional smoking, and the sex...which was rarely fun. Winning, she found fun; all the cheering, praising, and making the losers feel like shit about themselves. But running through the sprinklers with the new biggest threat to a title she was determined to get; the laughing, the chasing, the smiling – No.

She stopped laughing, took a few deep breaths and straightened herself as best as possible in her soaking state. "Whatever. I'm gonna hit the showers," she said turning towards the school building.

"Cool, me too," Brittany said, following the other Cheerio. "I'm Brittany," she beamed.

Santana kept walking, picking up the pace a bit to see if the girl would leave her alone, but she just continued to follow her. Sure, they both had to hit the showers, but that didn't mean they had to chat or walk together. However, the girl just stared at her obviously expecting her to respond. "Yeah, I know, we've been introduced to each other before and I've seen you everyday for the past week, multiple times a day."

"Hmm, I don't remember your name though," Brittany said, with a frown.

Once again, she hated Brittany Pierce. There was no one, _no one, _who didn't know the name Santana Lopez at McKinley. Not only was the girl trying to swoop in and take everything that was hers, she was doing it without even noticing that Santana even existed, and that was the biggest insult of all. "Look." She stopped, turning to face the blonde. "Don't think that little run in the sprinklers means that we're friends. I was hot, and when cold water hits my skin, it tickles so I was laughing. But we are not friends. Santana Lopez doesn't do friends."

"But aren't you friends with Quinn?"

"Trust me," she said in an eerily quiet voice. "You want to stop talking now." How had the girl managed to remember Quinn's name, but not hers? With that, she turned to enter the building, sure that Jacob Ben Israel wouldn't rat them out since they gave him a wet Cheerios uniform show. She would make sure to find him the next day, just to be sure, but there weren't many people that had the guts to do anything like telling a teacher on her. That would be suicide.

Before she could finish grabbing her things from her locker, she heard a single shower turn on. Everyone else was gone, so there was only one person who could have been in the showers, humming loudly as the water bounced off skin in various pitches. Santana rolled her eyes, automatically annoyed by the blonde's presence. She made sure she had everything she needed and then headed towards the shower stalls, spotting Brittany immediately. The blonde stood beneath the steaming water, the muscles of her slender back flexing as she moved to run her fingers through her damp hair. Santana gulped, a certain tingling and throbbing building between her thighs as she watched the other girl start to lather her skin with thick soap suds that slowly began to run down her skin with the cascade of water.

Tearing her eyes away, Santana decided it would be better to shower elsewhere. She returned to locker to quickly get dressed, and exited the locker room without looking back. When she walked out into the parking lot, she was surprised to see Quinn waiting for her, thinking to herself, "Pff, Santana Lopez waits for no one."


	3. Not So Pleasant Surprises

Well sorry about the wait, I was sick and then there was an unexpected death in the family, so it's been family bonding time for the last few weeks. Hope everyone is enjoying their summer, even if it's study filled like mine XD Please review.

Chapter Two: Not So Pleasant Surprises

"Apparently that's not the only thing she's got," Santana said, leaning against the lockers as Quinn sorted out a few books in her own. "I sexted Puck last night, and he said he was quote un-quote – hanging with his girl Brittany." She rolled her eyes dramatically, recrossing her arms after doing a few air-quotes. She knew Quinn was barely paying attention to her, or the things in her locker, the blonde was glancing over at the oversized goof known as Finn Hudson; the rising freshman quarterback who was pretty much already _the _quarterback, due to the other guy's constant sucking.

"Wait, he actually said _his girl Brittany_?" Quinn asked in disbelief, glancing over at her fellow Cheerio.

There was a bit more attitude in Santana's every move and stance this morning, signs of more agitation than usual. Noah Puckerman had yet to ever give someone the title of being his girl the entire school year thus far, and after being around for only two weeks the new girl had managed to gain just that. Everyone knew Santana was going for Puck, just like Quinn was going for Finn. Well, except for both the boys themselves. Somehow.

"Yes, he actually said that, Fabray. And you know what? Not only was I pissed that that bitch had stolen my man, I thought to myself for a moment – Hold up, I can barely move, let alone do the dirty with Puck. I was just wanting him to bring me a pint of my favorite Ben & Jerry's-"

"There's something cruel about that," Quinn interjected, but her friend continued on, as per usual mid rant. She had received a text from her fiery minion – and yes, she did think of her as such on sacred grounds – when she assumed the fiery Latina had finally made it home after enduring whatever punishment their coach had forced upon her, going on and on about how she despised the new girl who somehow still managed to forget who 'Santana Fucking Lopez' was. Really, it was obvious to Quinn that anyone who could walk the halls at McKinley and not know the name Santana Lopez obviously wasn't in touch with things. One thing specifically – hierarchy.

"She wasn't even tired." Santana finished, waving her hands dramatically. "What's up with her? Does she have it out for me or something? This girl is just so-" Stopping short, she couldn't even think of what the girl was; frustrating, infuriating, something else with an -ing ending. But there was one thing she did know, "the next time I see her-"

"Fighting another Cheerio is forbidden, Santana, you know that." Checking herself in the mirror, and happening to catch Finn turn his eyes back to the contents of his locker with a shy smile, Quinn sighed. "Look, I know you're worried about the new girl stealing your thunder, but it's you we're talking about. Aren't you the same girl that tripped Stacy Myers during Cheerio try-outs while she was teaching us a routine, fracturing her ankle and ruining her entire senior year?"

"There were no witnesses to back her up on that," Santana said, thinking back on try-out week. It was the summer before school starts, the heat was beyond ridiculous, and she herself had recently discovered that she could rule McKinley High if she became a Cheerio, thanks to her older brother's then recently ex-girlfriend – Stacy Myers. "Anyways, that bitch got what she deserved. Who the fuck cheats on _my _brother?"

After putting on some lip-gloss, Quinn smacked her lips together twice before and smiled lightly as she caught Finn's eye, obviously she wasn't the only one happy with the results of her mid-morning touch up. She closed her locker, turning to face the other girl. "The only thing this girl has got on you is a few flips and twirls, and you know what? You can't be at the top of the pyramid if you're twirling around at the foot of it. Remember that the next time you see her."

Santana eyed her friend carefully, her eyes squinted into thin slants. "I think you're on to something."

"Aren't I always?" Turning slightly so she could look at Finn as he finally closed his locker and headed to class, she leaned against the lockers alongside her partner in crime. "You and I are going to be the top bitches at this school next year, and seeing that we're both too headstrong and unwilling to be each others' lap dogs, there's only one use for a girl like Brittany." Seeing her friend's brow crease in confusion, the blonde continued. "A girl who isn't afraid of the people at the top, and who looks like that, belongs at the top."

"Wait—what?" Santana asked, sure she hadn't just heard Quinn correctly. Yet again, someone she knew who was of high status was choosing the blonde as part of their fold. Of all the people though, she never expected to hear those words from Quin, the one person who knew exactly how much Santana wanted to be on top. "I think you need to run that by me again, because I couldn't have heard you right, Fabray."

"Don't be over dramatic," Quinn said, pushing herself off of the lockers. They started the long trek to McKinley's gym, where they were about to endure yet another Sue Sylvester style practice. Some could say it was homicidal, but others praised her technique, mostly because they were afraid of her, which Quinn could respect. It was part of the reason she wanted to join the Cheerios at McKinley, Sue Sylvester was a thing of legends in Ohio.

"It's me you're talking to," Santana huffed, tightly crossing her arms across her chest as they walked the halls, head high. "All I heard was lap dogs, and Brittany belongs at the top."

Quinn laughed. "I'm thinking your selective hearing may be the reason behind the many altercations you've had with the entire student body, in just one semester. I'm giving you advice that has been passed from one bitch to another, generation after generation – Keep your friends close..."

"I get you," she said, not finding it necessary to complete such a cliché. "I'm still not happy about having to talk to her, or being seen with her, or her looking at me." Quinn laughed beside her, but she was serious, there were only so many enemies she could befriend. One was hard enough to maintain. "But..." a grin spread across her lips. "I do like the sound of having a lap dog."

"Knowing you, there's nothing to worry about, you're probably just overreacting. She's new, and pretty, but soon she'll be old news just like all the other Cheerios we were competing with for the middle slots. I mean, look at us." As they entered the gym, the stragglers who wore the standard McKinley gym gear parted, a few of them ducking their heads and avoiding eye contact as she and Santana headed towards the locker room. "We're two freshman that jumped over every sophomore girl, except that one with the third nipple, to get where we are. It's a major accomplishment. This girl can be cute and bubbly all she wants, it takes a bitch to make it to the top, and you're the biggest bitch I know."

Santana's grin grew impossibly larger. "Aw, thanks Fabray." She paused. "But if I'm right, and she _is _trying to compete with all of this," she said, running her hands down her sides seductively as Quinn held the door to the locker room door. "Know that I will take this girl down."

"Lopez!"

Coming to a halt, Santana's head ducked hearing her name being blasted through the megaphone that sometimes haunted her drams. Literally just the megaphone at times. There was no way she was about to hear that she was being promoted to the top of the pyramid with the tone of the woman's voice. She turned slowly, noticing Quinn's slightly worried expression. "Yes, Coach?"

The woman marched over to her, pointing a finger in her face. "Israel tells me you decided to frolic in the sprinklers with Dopey yesterday instead of honorably facing the consequences of your inadequacy on the field." She lifted the megaphone to her lips. "Is that true, Lopez?" she blared. "Because Dopey here says it is."

Her eyes immediately looked past the towering woman, landing on a guilty looking blonde standing not too far behind their coach. Whether the look of guilt was because the girl was obvious a rat, or because she actually felt guilty was a mystery, but at the moment Santana couldn't care less. "You rat," she yelled, moving to step around the woman in a sudden fit of rage, but a firm hand grabbed her arm.

"San..." Quinn warned, hoping the other teen would remember her little reminder of the forbidden rule she had given earlier.

The megaphone now lowered, Coach Sylvester looked more angry than ever. "You better listen to your friend there, senorita."

After shaking her arm free, Santana straightened her uniform by running her hands flat against it, clearing her throat before speaking again. "Yes, Coach."

"Now, I'm assuming by your little fit of madness that Jew Fro was telling the truth. Not only did you supply him with unlimited wet dreams for god knows how long, you've also gave him amo against you for all the times you've berated his habitual creepy behavior." She looked over her shoulder, nodding for Brittany to come closer before glaring at the gathered Cheerios, quickly sending them on their way. "Neither one of you are worthy of those uniforms, and as someone who aspires to be a leader here" she said, looking specifically at Santana. "I cannot see what possibly possessed you to not only screw up the entire practice, but to then also outright disobey me in front of a rat like Jacob Ben Israel. Disgraceful."

"Sorry, Coach." Santana mumbled, fully understanding that she had let the woman down in multiple ways. She could see Brittany nodding in agreement with her apology and it only made her want to hit the blonde even more.

"For the next three days you're both suspended from all the privileges of being one of Sue Sylvester's Cheerios, including the privilege of wearing those uniforms."

"But Coach you can't-"

"Excuse me? I can, and I will," the woman said, sternly. "You have seventy-two hours to prove to me that I should accept you back on the team, and because of your little display of anger back there Lopez, I'm going to suggest a bit of bonding time for the two of you. Regular gym for three days, two hours extra practice everyday after school, and detention for insubordination."

Brittany groaned. "I hate detention."

Santana looked at the girl, appalled by her choice of what to groan over. Out of all the things, she was worried about detention? Santana's whole world could fall apart over the next three days, and all the blonde was worried about was some stupid detention? Her eyes went into thin slants, her lips held together tightly.

Sue rolled her eyes. "Lopez, you're already pushing it."

* * *

><p>Putting her car into park, Santana sighed in relief at the sight of her two story home, which was a rarity. It was no Fabray mansion but that place was colder than ice – just like the Fabray's. Sure, her family was far from perfect; her father was barely around because he was the chief of surgery at the local hospital, her mother was a tyrant in the real estate realm with her head so far up her ass that it was no wonder she had the cockiest children around, and her grandmother hated her father, but they were a family that loved each other and stood by each other no matter what. She wasn't sure she could say the same when it came to Quinn's family.<p>

Getting out of her car, she glanced over at her brother's '72 Corvette. He had built it with their father during his freshman and sophomore year at McKinley, and it was supposed to be a graduation present, but when Armando became the starting quarterback his junior year their father handed over the keys with the biggest smile on his face that Santana had ever seen.

"Why is he here?" she grumbled, grabbing her Cheerios bag out of the backseat. After his graduation, her brother had decided he wanted to start a fire under the house by keeping his job at Steak your Shake (a name she would never understand), and go to the Lima Art Institute. Apparently, he had a secret love for art that no one knew about. Needless to say, her parents were far from happy with his choice, and his presence tended to make the house more tense than usual.

"Hola," she said loudly, walking through the door. The sounds of hurried footsteps sounded through the house, mixed in with a few sliding squeaks on the the polished hardwood floors. She turned slightly, setting down her bag, while instantly raising her other hand in the opposite direction, a quiet slap being her as her hand connected with its target.

"You ate all the Lucky Charms, _again._"

She looked down at her little brother, arching her brow at the 'cape' tied around his neck as he swung at her mercilessly, his arms unable to reach her due to her hand pushing him back by his forehead. Armando used to do it to her all the time, and she found it very useful when dealing with her five year old brother, Axel.

"Calm down, or I won't give you the candy I bought you to make up for it." Instantly the boys arms dropped to his side, but she kept her arm extended for a few more seconds just to make sure he wasn't going to try to catch her off guard. Seeing that he wasn't, she got down on one knee, kneeling down to unzip her bag and pull out two packs of M&M's _without _peanuts, seeing that the boy was deathly allergic.

He squealed in delight, grabbing the two packages of candy before throwing his arms around her neck, hugging her tightly and knocking them to the ground in the process. "Thanks," he said, his voice muffled in her hair.

"You're welcome," she smiled, holding him close. He was a pain, but she loved him.

"I remember when you used to hug me like that, Sis," Armando said, standing in the walkway between the entry way and the dining area, signature Lopez smirk on his lips. He stood in his Letterman, a white shirt stained with various colors of paint underneath it, his blue jeans matching his shirt's state. His short curls hung around his eyes, and he lopsided grin on his face made him look more boyish than ever, but the small traces of the man he was shaping into were obvious in his young features.

Sitting up and moving Axel off at the same time, she glared at her older brother. "Yeah, before I started hating your guts." Their little brother frowned between them, and then shrugged before scampering off with his candy. "What are you doing here, Mando?" She slid past him, walking through the dining area before turning into the kitchen area. She eyed the sparkling counter tops, and expense pans hanging above their island. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," he scoffed, taking a seat at the bar as his sister started to gather her after-school protein shake ingredients. "Still swearing off actual meals?" he asked.

"Still a clean freak when you do something you know mommy and daddy won't like?" she asked, with a bitter edge. He gave a sarcastic smile, but didn't answer the question, so she simply sighed and continued preparing her shake. She was beyond starving, and tomorrow was going to be yet another day of bonding time with Brittany Pierce in gym class. "Where's Abuela?"

"Grocery store." He paused, watching her closely. "Something on your mind?" he asked, getting up to go lean on the counter beside her as she filled the blender with questionable ingredients. They may not have been close at the moment, but he knew that the only time their grandmother was asked for was when Santana had something to say. It used to be him that she went to, but that had changed years before. "Have anything to do with the fact that you're in McKinley High's standard gym uniform, instead of a Cheerios uniform?"

She couldn't get herself to look down at the disgraceful gym shorts and t-shirt she was sporting, the looks on the faces of the other Cheerios as she had filed onto the field for after school practice made her want to vomit. She was dirt, scum. The bottom of the pyramid. "This blonde bimbo at school is trying to take me down."

"She seems to be winning so far, from the looks of it." He raised his hands in defense when Santana turned to give him a pointed look, a warning he knew she meant wholeheartedly. "I don't mean the uniform, I mean you're obvious lack of true Lopez attitude. You're off your game. Drowning in the dumps. She's getting to you."

Slamming the top to the blender on top of the glass container, she pressed the crush button aggressively, holding the top steady as the sound of the blender echoed through the kitchen. "You have no idea what this girl has managed to do since she's enrolled," she yelled over the blender.

"A new girl?" he asked, beginning to laugh.

Turning the blender off, she realized just how hard he was laughing and growled, punching him in the gut and then stepping on his foot for good measure. "Seeing your current freak status, I suggest you shut your mouth."

"God. What is wrong with you?" He doubled over slightly, one hand on his stomach as his other rubbed his lifted foot. "No wonder you can't keep a boyfriend." He winked at her playfully before standing up straight, clearing his throat in the process. "But I hear you've been keeping that Fabray girl around."

"Do you want to get hit again? Whatever you're trying to insinuate, don't. Fabray and I want the same things at McKinley, and we know that we're the only ones who really have a chance of getting it, so-"

"Is she wearing a McKinley gym uniform, too?" His sister stared at him, not answering the question at all as she poured her shake into a glass, and started to drink it. He shook his head. "You're slipping. Oh, and by the way." He grabbed an apple out of a fruit basket on the counter, taking a big bite out of it. "I'm gay."

* * *

><p>Quinn stood in front of her pool gate, staring out into the darkness on the side of her large home, listening for the faint sound of Santana's car being parked around the corner. It was late, and neither of them were supposed to be anywhere that wasn't in bed, getting their beauty sleep for another day on sacred grounds. However, a few hours earlier, she had received a hysterical phone call from none than Santana Lopez; a girl known to lose her cool in fits of anger, not emotions of the other variety. Anger, spite, jealousy – sure. But the girl she had heard on the phone was far from angry, and whatever jealousies that laid between them, she knew wouldn't be spoken of once the other teen arrived.<p>

She heard the faint sound of an engine approaching and sighed in relief when the car was obviously turned off before it reached the area in front of her home. Considering the call she had gotten, she wasn't sure if Santana would consider their usual way of doing things when either of them would sneak over. Whether it be because one lied and said they were with the other and then had to actually go there after returning from whatever adventure (namely Santana), or if the family members were being outrageous (Quinn's area of expertize), there was a way things had to be done. Getting caught was never to happen, under _any _circumstance. If there was one thing they both understood, it was the wrath of an angry parent.

The sound of lightly crunching grass made her gasp in surprise, but hearing a few coded clicks of the tongue, which she returned anxiously, Quinn sighed in relief. Without having to really seek out the girl's full figure, she reached out a hand and wasn't surprised when one instantly met hers. Turning to the gate, she quietly pushed it open with her free hand, the bluish glow of the pool pouring onto them as they entered the backyard area.

Glancing over her shoulder to watch Santana gently close the gate behind them, Quinn was able to catch a glimpse of the Latina's puffy eyes. Turning away, she swallowed hard. Santana Lopez crying was not something she expected to see, minus a drunken encounter the other teen had absolutely no recollection of – yet another adventurous night that ended with her crashing (sometimes literally) at the Fabray house. Whatever had happened, it was huge, and for a split second she found herself searching through their various nights of fun; some of the images were too blurry to remember, with gaps of blackness in between, but a few others were quite clear. Seeing that her parents hadn't called the calvary to go on a crusade against her though, the thoughts quickly faded.

It wasn't like her to have friends, a choice that definitely wasn't hers, and she was sure that Santana wasn't much for friends either thanks to her bitchy persona so the whole comforting thing made her a bit nervous, but it was Santana. It was the one girl who stood by her side everyday, no questions asked. Sure there were accusations, but there were no questions, and being new in town and considering her history, she was beyond grateful for the girl's acceptance. Even if it was mostly rooted out of a crazed silent rivalry. Considering that Santana was the little sister of the recently graduated star quarterback of McKinley, immediately giving her status within those halls, Quinn knew the other teen could have brushed her off and left her to fend for herself, but she hadn't. It was time to return the favor.

Finally reaching her room, which was upstairs and closer to the back of the house to her relief – a request she had made upon moving thanks to the loud obnoxiousness that emitted from her parents' room after a late night Gin and Tonic – she closed her room door and locked it before leading the other teen to her bed so they could sit down.

Reaching for her lamp beside her bed, she ignored the quiet objection from beside her. "I know you've been crying."

Santana scoffed. "Just rub it in," she said, putting her hands in her lap and staring at them as if her life depended on it.

A soft light emitted in the room, revealing Quinn's pajama clad state, her hair pulled up into a messy bun. Santana was in a pair of shorts that were way too short with an old t-shirt and small jacket for the late night chill. The brunette was staring blankly at the ground, her eye puffy and red.

"Okay..." She could already see that there was no point in disputing the accusation, Santana was in reaction mode and it really didn't matter what anyone meant by anything, she was going to take it however she wanted. However she needed. "What's going on, San? What happened?"

Santana looked up from her hands, turning to look at the questioning teen. A pained expression formed as she first opened her mouth to speak, failing to get the words out. The result of her brother's visit haunted her, it tied her stomach into knots, threatening to push up any substance within it's confines. "They've disowned Mando." She paused. "They told him he's not aloud to come near me...or Axel." Her eyes slowly turned to the floor, her brother's pleas for understanding echoing within her.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Again with the art school drama? I thought they were over that. Praying for his sanity to return so he can follow in papa's footsteps, but silently brooding which could be seen as progress." Santana sat silently, not responding to her at all as her hazel eyes searched for answers. She had heard all about the famous art school Lopez blowup, and it had all seemed rather tame compared to what she imagined her father would do. A Fabray not going to business school? Unacceptable. She had taken strong notes, looking as if it were a science experiment she had so happened to land upon that could give her clues as to how such decisions would be received by her own family.

"It wasn't that," Santana finally said. She took a deep breath, and her head snapped in Quinn's direction. "He's gay, okay?" She heard the quiet gasp, saw the raised brow and slightly parted lips, but she kept going, unable to stop herself. "He told them he was gay, and now they don't want anything to do with him. They told him he couldn't be _that way_ and expect them to let him near Axel."

The Hispanic's frazzled state now explained, Quinn found herself unable to even begin to think of a response to what she had just been told. Armando Lopez, legendary recently graduated quarterback of McKinley High, recently turned art reject – homosexual? She couldn't stop staring at the now quiet teen, stuck in shock and also a bit fearful.

Santana sniffled, wiping at her eyes before another tear could fall. It was one thing to cry in her car, or in the darkness of the night as she made her way across neatly trimmed grass, crying in front of Quinn was not acceptable. "What if I never see him again?"

"You will," Quinn said, urgently. Santana may have claimed to hate her brother on many occasions, sighting reasons such as a disgrace to the family name as a fresh and ripe freak, but it was obvious that she never meant it. If anything, Quinn suspected that Santana was upset that her brother had never shared his secret passion for art with her over the years. Apparently, they had been pretty close before the end of his senior year. Or the end of the summer following his senior year, she wasn't sure yet, Santana left a lot of blanks in her family time stories.

"You didn't hear them," she said, finally looking towards the blonde again. "They said some really fucked up shit." Somehow a laugh escaped her, mixing with a quiet sob, but again she pulled herself together. She was tired of crying, anyways.

Quinn shook her head. "Armando would never let anyone or anything to keep him from seeing you, he loves you." Sure, she herself may have only seen the two siblings together on three or four occasions, but it was obvious in the young man's goofy smile as he teased a scowling Santana. "You and Axel. No one can keep the three of you apart, not even your parents."

"What if they put a restraining order on him?" Santana asked, making sure she continued to hold Quinn's gaze. She found herself feeling like a child, a child looking for hope in the words of a parent. Of course, Quinn Fabray was no Miranda Lopez, but at the moment she was doing the one thing that she had wanted her mother, father, or older brother to do for her – Reassure her that everything would be okay.

"Do you really think they would?" Quinn asked, making sure to sound skeptical in tone. Sure, families could be dramatic, but she couldn't see the Lopez family making things any more difficult. Plus, such things would also draw a lot of attention later one when he ignored the restraining order so he could see his family, which she had no doubt they all knew he would. Santana simply shook her head in response, and Quinn offered a small smile. "Everything will work out fine, he'll make sure of that. A young Lopez always gets what they want, after all."

Santana smiled lightly. "Yeah. It's a nightmare for the Mr. and Mrs. though," she chuckled.

Smiling, she placed a hand atop of one Santana had just placed on the bed, both of them continuing to find humor in the moment before the Latina slowly removed her hand from beneath Quinn's, clearing her throat awkwardly. Quinn's mouth opened and closed as she tried to find something to say, but there was no point and she knew it. Tonight hadn't just revealed to her what would happen if in a similar situation, it had also clued Santana in, indirectly and yet firsthand.

When Santana started to stand, Quinn quickly broke out of her slight stupor. "You're not staying?"

She shook her head, pushing her hands into her jacket pockets. "Not tonight," she said, quietly. Walking towards the door, she ducked her head for a moment, taking a deep breath before glancing back at the quiet blonde. "Thanks, Q."

"Anytime, San."

– TBC –

I know, not much Brittany this chapter, but there will be lots of her from this point on. Just needed to lay a bit more groundwork. Next chapter will be all about the quality time Santana and Brittany must spend together as 'punishment'. Review, please!


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